Good Ol' Fashioned Weasley Lovin'
by ProtegoNox
Summary: Featuring our beloved Weasleys, their friends, and their notsomuch beloved rivals and enemies. The sexy author reminds you that this story is very much cannon compliant. 'Cuz she likes it like that! Complete until further notice.
1. Chap1: Luna's amazing Foreshadowing

**A.N.: **_I'm back! Muahaha! I bet you're all terrified. I've never really written much humour, I normally stick to not-so-much humour, but I thought I'd give it a shot, even if I'm needle-phobic. Wha? What's this you say? Of course I don't make any sense! That's the point!_

**Disclaimer: **_So yeah, I'm like totally JKR, and I like totally approve of this website so I like totally thought of like a pen name that's in like Latin so that like no one knows that it's totally me that's writing._

**Disclaimer 2: **_In case you all have a very low sense of common, I was kidding up there. My name doesn't even start with a 'J'._

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The Weasleys, along with Hermione, Harry and Luna, were heading to the close-by village for some Muggle fun like arcades and such. They all managed to pile into the one magically-altered car. Only Luna put her seat belt on. Everyone stared at her.

"You should buckle up too, it makes it harder for Cricklerdons to suck you out of the car," she stated in her dreamy voice, taking out the newest edition of the Quibbler from her coat pocket.

"Luna, when will you learn that there are no such things as..." But Ron never got to finish his sentence because he was sucked right out of the car. A deathly silence fell over the remaining occupants.

"Told you," replied Luna, flipping a page to her magazine, as everyone else buckled up.


	2. Chap 2: Serves Him Right

**A.N.: **_Y'argh, maties, it be me again. So I wrote this one as the original chapter 1, but whatever, sounds good as chapter two. Oh! Before I forget! I always seem to be at a loss for inspiration, so while you review (I can't believe it either! I'm actually telling you to review!) how 'bout you drop me some hints as to what you'd like to see in a future chapter. Just like anything. Like 'fish eat cat', or 'Ron in diapers'._

**Disclaimer:** Y_eah, I can't believe I'm not JKR. Sucks, doesn't it?_

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Fred got out of bed but quickly fell back down. "Woah," he muttered, holding his throbbing head in his hands. "What the hell happened last night?" 

"I'm not surprised you don't remember," whispered a dreamy voice behind him. Fred turned to see who it was. He stumbled off the bed in shock. Luna laughed. "The amount of alcohol you ingested last night really was impressive, " she said in her sing-song voice, eyes glazed. "You were a lot of fun." She left him on the floor and walked right out like nothing happened. Fred followed her with his eyes, horrified at what was implied. George appeared in the open doorway.

"So you're up," chuckled George.

"Yeah," mumbled Fred. "What was Luna doing in here?"

"You mean you don't remember?" asked George, leaning casually in the doorframe. "Doesn't surprise me, really." Then he laughed some more. Fred, having enough, got up and headed for the kitchen. He was surprised to see that everyone was up and dressed. Even Ron and Harry, who normally slept until early afternoon. He checked his watch and was surprised to see it was only eight o'clock. When all the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville and a whole bunch of Order members saw him, they all turned away, trying unsuccessfully to hide their laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" he asked, annoyed. At this they couldn't hold it in. They let their laughs echo through the house. "Fine! I'm going for a walk!" And twin number one left through the kitchen door, leaving a bunch of Order members as well as the Weasleys wiping their tears of laughter.

"So George, what really happened to Fred last night?" asked Ron, curious as to why George had asked them to pretend it was really embarrassing.

"Nothing," George shrugged. "I just wanted to piss him off after he got drunk and hit on me." And twin number two left through the kitchen door, leaving a bunch of Order members as well as the Weasleys looking bewildered and with an odd loss of appetite.


	3. Chap 3: Nature's Got A Cell Phone

**A.N.**: _YO! What is up? So inspiration for this was totally random and hopefully it tickles your random-loving fancies. For once, I didn't overthink this short story. It kinda just... came out! Which is fun! Right? RIGHT???_

**A.N.2:**_ Sorry about that last A.N.. It's hard to be a 17 year old university student in the midst of exams. BAH! Who am I kidding? I've chilled more than my fair share, so this is kind of like a goodbye for a short period of time, until the day where I am free of cruel and unsual punishments._

**Disclaimer:** _I have nothing to disclaim that wasn't already disclaimed in the past chapters._

* * *

Hermione can't believe it. They were having such a lovely time and then he runs off, just like that. _I bet I scared him off with my ever-so-bushy hair and buck teeth,_ she sighed, absent- mindedly pulling a birds' nest from her hair. (**A.N.:** _that's where she got that flock of birds in the Half-Blood Prince... what? That's not a spoiler!_) ANYWAY, as Hermione stomped into the Burrow living room, infuriated, there he is: the prat. (**A.N.: **_Ever notice he's always either a prat or a git in fanfiction? I have. And right now, he's going to be a prat, just because it sounds funny to my Canadian ears.)_

"Will you be quiet up there? This story is supposed to be about me, not about you!" Hermione the scarlet woman yelled in direction of the ceiling, while the author's imposing laugh echoed.

"This is my story, I'll have you know, so I can do what I want with it!" the amazingly talented author replied. "You don't want to become one of those... stereo-typical straight haired girls, with full red lips and curves in 'all the right places', do you?"

"No ma'am," muttered the know-it-all, who was instantly forgiven by the ever forgiving author.

"Good. You may proceed," dismissed the sexy author. Hermione bowed, and resumed her previous pose: hands on hips and angry stare, which just so happend to be focused on one tall red head male. Ron gulped audibly.

"Where have you been, you insufferable prat?" Hermione spat at him, throwing the empty birds' nest for good measure. That and she didn't have much use for an empty birds' nest.

"I... I..." stuttered our beloved youngest Weasley son.

"Out with it Ronald!" she bellowed. And because the use of his full name is like putting snow down his shirt, he cringes and gives in.

"Alright! It's just well... nature called," he mumbled, ears turning a deep shade of sangria (**A.N.: **_check out Wikipedia, under shades of red, if you want a precise mental picture) _as he attempts to explain to her where he's been without mentioning that he had diarrhea. (**A.N.: **_I love toilet humour!)_

"Well?" she tapped her foot in impatience. (**A.N.: **_So much for being a know-it-all, I see.)_

"Well, what?" he said.

"What did nature have to say that was so important you had to run off and leave me all alone?" she explained, rolling her eyes.

"It said that it's jealous of your hair," he rolled his eyes.

"Really?"

"No."

"Oh." Her short statement was quickly followed by an awkward silence and the author had to resist the urge to yell 'Cowabonga!' at the top of her lungs. Because that would have been weird and totally not related to this story. So to break the awkward silence that had fallen in between the author's favourite couple of the hour without yelling the above-mentioned word, she decided to flip a coin: heads, they play chess and tails they make out. Placing a nickel on her thumb nail, she heard the crowd inhale with anticipation as she unleashed the silver coin and watched it land on...

"Wanna make out now?" asked Hermione

"Sure," said Ron.

So they did.


	4. Chap 4: Descent into Madness

**A.N.:**_ I actually wrote this piece of art a long time ago, although it's been severely edited and I think it's much more fun now. Enjoy!_

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Hermione had finally convinced Ron to let her help him get over his fear of spiders. (**A.N.: **Yay! Ron won't be afraid of spiders anymore!) She started by explaining that they were good for the environment, getting rid of flies and little insects and controlling their population. (**A.N.:** It's true too!) Spiders were too small to actually hurt him. (**A.N.:** Unless of course you follow the spiders into the Forbidden Forest, until you get to this huge place where ENORMOUS spiders roam and want to eat you. But yeah, other than that, all spiders are smaller than humans.) Then she transfigured a small rock to become the tiniest, cutest spider she could make. She held it out to him and he watched it climb up her arm. Intrigued that it didn't immediately attack, he took a step forward, but refused to come any closer even with her encouragement.

As the days went on, Ron slowly but surely started to got over his fear. (**A.N.: **_Weasley you are SO my king!_) He could even touch some of the smaller, fluffy ones.

"That's it Ron!" she exclaimed happily. "See, they aren't bad. They're not going to hurt, rape, attack, kill or try to eat you."

"I'm okay. I'm still scared, but I'm getting over them," stammered Ron. "They won't hurt me. They're my friends. Friends don't hurt each other, right?" Fred and George, who had been watching her attempts with great interest, suddenly decided it was time for them to intervene. They couldn't let one girl ruin their greatest achievement: Ron's arachnaphobia. Strutting from their perch on the front porch over to the pond, they grinned mischievously at Hermione and Ron, who suddenly became uneasy. (**A.N.:** _Drum roll please...!_)

"You'd think spiders wouldn't hurt you..." started Fred.

"But you'd be wrong," finished George.

Ron, horrified at the fact that he was actually holding a spider, quickly threw the spider as far as he could and ran to his room, crying like the little girl he was. Hermione followed Ron into the house to snog him senseless, but only after glaring Hermione-like at the twins of course. Because if she didn't glare at the twins, then it wouldn't be like Hermione. And the lords of FanFiction would shun the brilliant author into FanFiction oblivion, where she would bow her head in shame for having turned Hermione into a non-Hermione like person.

That's also when the amazingly sexy author descended from her own universe to congratulate the twins on their successful bashing of their younger brother.

"Congratulations on your successful bashing of your younger brother," said the super cool author.

"Thanks," said Fred.

"No problem," replied the hot author, who then proceeded to take off her two sweaters because she was starting to sweat. And that wouldn't be cool.

"So you're taking off you sweaters there, huh?" said George.

"Yup," said the not-so-much hot author.

"Cool," said Fred. The three people stood there watching each other awkwardly.

"Well, I guess I'd better get going," sighed the beautiful author.

"Oh, ok then," said George.

"See you later, I guess," said Fred.

"Bye," said the pretty author.


	5. Chap 5: Wanna Play A Game?

Ron and Hermione were in the Burrow living room, sitting on the couch, alone for a change, seeing as the twins were at their shop, Harry at the Dursley's, Mr Weasley at the Ministry, Charlie in Romania, Ginny at Luna's and well you get the point, right? They're home alone. (**A.N.:** _Oh, what crazy plot have I come up with that makes Ron and Hermione home... ALONE? Read and see my friend, read and see.)_ Anyway, they were really bored. Ron more than Hermione, who was reading, you guessed it, _Hogwarts: A History _for the 378th time, not that the influential author is counting or anything like that. Because she's not. Really. She's not.

"Hermione, wanna play wizard chess?"

"Not really, Ron," she replied. "You know how I feel about the violence."

"How about Exploding Snap?"

"I don't fancy that game much either."

"A quick game of Quidditch, then?"

"Have you seen the weather outside? It's raining." (**A.N.:** _That and Hermione wouldn't play Quidditch. Hermione doesn't like Quidditch. This is here for all those authors that are not as talented as this one and who seem to believe that overnight Hermione will just get out of bed and become amazingly talented at playing Quidditch and beat Ron and Harry. Because she wouldn't. End of story.)_

"Gobstones?"

"Too messy."

"Uno?"

"Ugh, no! Awful game."

"Skip-Bo?"

"It's no fun with only two people."

"Twister?" (**A.N.: **_Ron, you cheeky little wizard you!_)

"No." (**A.N.:** _Sorry Ron, no such luck right now.)_

"Hide and Go-Seek?"

"No."

"Dress-Up?"

She eyed him curiously, almost afraid. "No."

"Wanna bug the ghoul in the attic?"

"No."

"Let's play catch."

"In the house? Are you mad? Your mother would kill us!"

"I'm just so darn bored!" yelled Ron, frustrated.

"Then find a way to entertain yourself," she replied, looking up from her book for the first time and giving him that look: you know, the one you give when you're lusting for someone. (**A.N.: **_Hehe, Hermione wants some action! Let's see if she gets it, then, shall we?_) He shrugs, obviously not having noticed how Hermione's giving him that Look, and gets up from the couch. He looks around and begins to rearrange books in the shelf.

"What are you doing, Ronald?" she whispers, trying her best to show him she's giving off more than just the Look now. She's undone the higher buttons on her blouse and pulls up her skirt to show some leg. She even flips her hair back! She flips her hair! (**A.N.: **_Oh, Woe is me, she's flipped her hair!_) Unfortunately, he's not very bright, is he? He's rather thick, I'd say. And I do say. I'm the author.

"I'm rearranging my mum's Gilderoy Lockhart collection in alphabetical order," he replies back, still as thick as an Oxford Dictionary. Trust me, it's pretty thick.

"Wouldn't you rather be doing something else?" she says to him, putting her book down and trying her best to show off her assets. But he's not looking at her, and she's growing impatient. If you could see her, I'd guess you'd say that her once lustful look is more of a I'm-gonna-pounce-if-you-don't-turn-around-and-notice-how-much-I-want-you-right-now. Like a tiger, eyeing her prey (**A.N.: **_That sounds accurate. Pounce, you tiger! Pounce!_).

"Like what? It's not like you've been giving me any hints as to what you want to do," he threw back, now turning to face her. He took one good look at what he saw and dropped the book he was holding. That's when they both found out exactly how big of a man Ronald Weasley really was.

"Tell your pants not to point, Ron, it's not polite," said Hermione, giggling.

And that's also when the happy author decided to leave her favourite couple of the hour so that she could find someone to play Skip-Bo with. Unfortunately, she wasn't as lucky as Ron. Not even her roommate would play Skip-Bo with her. So the wickedly brilliant author became content by knitting her never-ending Gryffindor scarf, vowing to finish it.


	6. Chapter 6: Secret Meetings and Innuendos

**A.N.: **_Ah yes, the joys of randomly expressing my love and gratitude for Harry Potter are back with not-so-much vengeance. More like random innuendos! YAY! Anyway, this is for all those random loving people and especially for those two girls that reviewed asking for like twenty more of these, Sarah and Kellia. Hopefully you enjoy this one as much as you enjoyed my last five!!_

**A.N.2:**_ I don't suppose I can still have that Slytherin scarf huh:D I'm just playing. Now for the rest of you, enough eavesdropping and read!_

* * *

"Harry, why did you really break up with me?" asked Ginny, after catching him staring at her for the tenth time in the past minute.

"I can't tell you again, Ginny," he replied. More like the smooth author couldn't be bothered to have them go through all that drama again. That and it's much funnier watching Ginny have a hissy fit than Harry kissing her passionately. On second thought, the passionate kissing could lead to some interesting situations... but, alas, no. The author has decided to stick with the original plot line. Because there's a plot line, you know. It's been thirteen seconds in the making.

"You know very well I can defend myself. I've made my proof countless times! So why?" she sobbed dramatically. Oh, the pain! Woe is the superb author as she yawns of boredom and rereads the last sentence she wrote while thinking that she is quite the talented one.

"I don't think you want to know the truth. I don't want to hurt you more than I already have," he mumbled sadly, as he chokes on his sorrow. After a few pats on the back from Ginny, the sorrow is dislodged. He breathes normally and thanks her. The laugh of the devilishly great author can be heard throughout the Burrow. Because for some obscure, unknown reason, she is laughing at her own ingenious ideas. Again.

"This hurts more! You can't hurt me anymore than by staying away from me," she cried out to him as he turned away. She grabbed onto his arm. He shook her off. She cried some more. At this time, the stylish author would like to have you know that she just finished painting her fingernails in rainbow colours, so any stupidity from here on is the nail polish fumes' fault.

"Trust me, I could hurt you more," he whispered, walking out the kitchen door. He didn't stop at the broom shed, or at the forest border, or at the lake that appears in almost all fanfiction stories at the Burrow but is never mentioned in the books or movies. He kept going until he reached a small clearing, all the while thinking that he shouldn't be doing this. It was wrong for him to do what he keeps doing. It was almost like betraying his friends every week since his arrival at the Burrow. When he reaches a large tree stump, he isn't surprised to see someone already there, as there has been twice every week. He is tapping his foot impatiently at the Boy Who Lived But Will Most Probably Die In Book Seven Even Though The Sexy Author Hopes That Will Not Be The Case. The young male strutted towards Harry as the song "I'm Too Sexy" plays from... it doesn't matter where it's coming from. All that matters is that it's playing while Draco Malfoy is catwalking towards Harry Potter.

"Didn't think you'd come today, Potter," sneered Malfoy. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I haven't missed a meeting in four weeks, Malfoy," he replied.

"Touché," sighed Malfoy, as the sarcastic author hopes that making Malfoy say 'touché' makes him sound educated. "Let's get the pleasantries over with, Potter, I've got other people to sneer and smirk at."

"Right. Have you brought...?"

"As always. Have you brought..."

"Yes. As always."

Here's where the author takes a break to realize that the majority of her chapters in this story have no definite plot line, other than the ones that she thinks up before writing them. And in her distress over such a lack of organization, she decides that there will be a sequel to this chapter as she tells her readers that their attention will now be brought back to the Burrow where Hermione is trying to comfort a dramatically sobbing Ginny.

"Oh! Oh, my aching heart! He has but torn it from its place in my chest and ripped it to shreds before mine eyes," sobbed Ginny.

"See? It's not too bad," interrupted unfeasible Ron. Funny, the intelligent author thinks that unfeasible is an incorrect adjective to put before Ron. But since spellcheck on her computer suggested it, it shall remain. All bow before the mightiness of spellcheck! Now back to Ginny who is sobbing some more while Ron is dodging death glares from Hermione.

"Hermione, quit that, will you? I can't dodge these forever, you know!" yelped Ron as one particularly nasty glare almost hit him. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Did you see where he went, Ginny?" she asked the emotionally unstable girl.

"I did. He left through the kitchen door. He didn't stop at the broom shed, or at the forest border or at the lake that appears in almost all fanfiction stories at the Burrow but is never mentioned in the..."

"Yes, yes, we read those lines too," Hermione sighed. "But where did he stop? The ever-amazing author all but ripped the text from our hands before we were able to finish reading."

"At the clearing. He's in the clearing with... with..." And poor, unstably emotional Ginny burst into more dramatic sobbing.

"With who?" asked Ron, confused.

"Malfoy," whispered Ginny. But for the sake of the story, the curvy author decided it was best to shut the little Weaslette up for a while. That and the energetic author was getting a mad headache from all the drama the youngest Weasley was creating in the living room.

"What is he doing with Malfoy in the clearing, Ginny?" asked Hermione, urgently. Ginny shook her head, which Hermione and Ron interpreted as refusal to say what Harry was doing. But Ginny was in fact trying to tell them exactly what it was that Harry was doing with Malfoy, alone in a clearing, far from preying eyes. Alone. In a clearing. With Malfoy, the Slytherin sex god. Alone. More innuendos. In a clearing. Some more innuendos. With Malfoy. Even more innuendos. With the Slytherin sex-god.

"Ginny, you have to answer. What is Harry doing with Draco Malfoy as we speak?" Hermione demanded to know. But she would not find out until the next chapter where the suspenseful author reveals it all while keeping her clothes on. Amazing, isn't it?


	7. Chapter 7: Intermission

**A.N.:** _This is a little break from the part one of Secret Meetings and Innuendos because I actually got bored with typing part deux (two) for the mini-story. Enjoy as much as insanely possible!_

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All was silent. All was still. Nothing was stirring, not even a magically altered raccoon. The mighty author, out of sheer boredom, descended from the world of FanFiction to play a major, defining role in her GOFWL ficcy (**A.N.:** _GOFWL- title of this piece of work. It's just too much of a mouthful to say. Type. Whatever.)_. She crept through the recently degnomed garden and slipped through the kitchen door. She flicked on the light and to her surprise, she was not alone.

"Top of the morning to ya," waved George Weasley.

"Oh. Uh, hi," mumbled the awe-stricken author.

"Who're you? You're quite the sexy kitten," asked the twin.

"Why thank you," purred the smitten kitten author. "I'm the most important person you'll ever meet."

"No way! J.K. Rowling? It really is a pleasure," smiled George, standing up. The giggling author giggled.

"Of course not, silly! J.K. Rowling is much too busy deciding who will die in the seventh book to be here right now," let slip the slippery author.

"Really? I'm sure it's either Fred or me. It can't be both because that wouldn't be heartbreaking enough, and she won't let us live because that's just impossible in time of war. Loveable characters always die to show the readers the horrors of war. Killing one twin is terribly heartwrenching if the other survives." The now impatient author coughed impatiently.

"Wouldn't that be a shame. I'm a rather important fan of yours," she laughed seductively.

"And you would be?"

"Why, I'm the author of this wonderful fanfiction, of course," she answered, winking.

"No," smiled George.

"Yes," winked the winking author.

"Do you have something in your eye? You're blinking an awful lot."

"I do, as a matter of fact. Hold on, I'll get it out." And the most talented author did eventually get it out.

"So you're like, the author," started George.

"Yes."

"So you can like, write us to do anything your little heart desires."

"And anything your little heart desires," she advanced upon him, hips swaying.

"Anything?"

"Anything," she whispered in his ear and bit his earlobe.

"Ouch! That rather hurt."

"Sorry. I'm rather new at this."

"I'd much rather you licked it."

"I'd much rather do that too."

"Or better yet, let's have this conversation in the living room, rather than here in the kitchen."

"Rather is such a funny word. I can't believe I used to rather the word 'or' instead of rather. Rather is much lovelier, even if it's got rat in there."

"I'd much rather you would snog the hell out of me instead of boring me to sleep."

"I'd much rather that too."

They snogged for a long time. In fact, they were quite exhausted when the sun rose and the lusty author finally straddled George for the last time.

"I'd love to do this again, you know."

"Me too. But I'd rather Fred next time. Just to see what it's like."

"Sure! I'll let him know."

"Thanks. I'll be off now."

But just as she turned around to go back to the world of FanFiction from where she came, she smirked.

"You know, I've always wanted to do this..."

The birds were chirping, the frogs hopping, the flowers blooming, the gnomes were a-coming, the dew was a-forming, the Weasleys other than George were a-snoring and the exhausted author was a-smirking as she took in a deep breath and screamed one terribly familiar word:

"COWABONGA!"


	8. Chapter 8: Secret Meetings Part Deux

**A.N.:**_ Yay! Part deux in the whole Draco Malfoy affair! Read on, my dears, read on..._

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Ah, the suspense is finally over! Please, please, hold your applause as the fair author brings your ever-so valuable attention back to the couple of boys in the not-so-much far away clearing. Draco and Harry were close to each other. Some would say too close for comfort, really.

"Can't you go any faster, Potter? I can't hold on much longer."

"Just... hold on... I'm almost there."

"I thought you'd get better at this as we practised."

"Be quiet and let me finish."

What Harry did next made both boys scream out in an avalanche of mixed emotions.

Not too far from there, three hunched figures were moving around eerily in the living room of the Burrow, Weasley household.

"I'm tired of reenacting scenes from the Hunchback of Notre-Dame," whined Ron. "Why don't we just go to the clearing and find out what Harry and Malfoy are doing?"

"Are you nutters?" Ginny whispered madly. Ah yes, the lusty author has given back to the Weasley girl the faculty of speech, thus enabling her to bring more comments on the plotless plot. She was also given a stern talking to about stealing drafts and finished copies and dynamite sticks and breath mints off her mighty author's desk. "Do you really want to know what those two are doing? Alone? In a clearing far from preying eyes?"

"Yeah, I do," answered oblivious Ron.

"As do I," agreed innocent, naive Hermione. (**A.N.: **_I am well aware that for this to be entirely true, you have to ignore chapters three, four and five, although she could just be ignorant as to the possibility of slash fiction. What? I didn't say anything about slash._)

Ginny advanced threateningly towards them, wild red mane of hair hiding her translucent skin, the candle she was holding lighting her face in a severely creepy manner. "The wonderful author knows everything," she whispered in a strange voice as Ron and Hermione jumped into each other's arms. The sky darkened and lightning bolts lit up the sky. Ginny locked the kitchen door with a flick of her wand. "'Cause I'm Mister Oogie Boogie. And you, ain't going, no where," she sang maliciously as the couple in front of her outstretched hands screamed in horror.

At this point, the scrumptious author would like to express her deep love for animated children movies such as _The Nightmare Before Christmas_, which was quoted by Ginny not more than a paragraph earlier. She would also like to recommend you to watch it. No, not now! Don't go! Please! Ah, thank you. Moving on to Draco and Harry, who were interrupted in their top-secret business by an unexpected and unplanned bit of rain.

"I thought you had checked with the beautiful author for the weather!" yelled Harry over the rolling thunder.

"You wanted the weather? I thought you wanted me to ask her for great sex tips!"

"And did you?"

"Of course! The all-knowing author revealed it all without taking her clothes off! It was amazing!"

"That's odd. Fred and George said she always takes her clothes off for them."

"Yeah that is odd. Hey, look! A subject change!"

"Really? Where?"

"Over there! In the shape of a cabin that appeared out of nowhere to try and get the readers to forget any previous slips about the lusty author's apparent lust for them Weasley twins!"

"Let's go!"

And so they did. The ever-suspenseful author enters a debate with her roommate as to whether she should end the chapter here and make this a three-shot or not. But seeing as the ever-confident author knocked out her roommate with a Hagrid cookie (**A.N. 2:**_ they're quite lethal; especially if you throw them at someone. But I digress.), _the ever-lasting author decides it is up to her wonderful readers! All those opposed to continuing the story sing 'I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts' and place your underwear on your head.

After careful listening for any versions of aforementioned song and hearing nothing other than the elevator outside her apartment exploding in a loud 'BOOM', the exasperated author gets up, heads for the kitchen, grabs a glass of one percent white milk and a couple of homemade peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, returns to her seat in front of the computer screen to type the rest of this chapter. One moment please while she eats her snack.

ONE MOMENT LATER

Completely refreshed, the amazing author stretches and relaxes. She stares at the screen and begins to type.

To Harry and Draco's obvious surprise, but not to the author's, the door was unlocked and the cabin held a table and two chairs. Lit candles were littered all over the floor and a roaring fire, well, roared in the fireplace. A note caught the boys' attention and reeled them in. Harry slapped Draco's hand away from the entrancing, white piece of paper and grabbed it while Draco whimpered girlishly. He read it aloud for everyone to hear.

_My dearest Harry and my not-so-much dear Draco,_

_Sincerest apologies about the weather. Hope this atmosphere makes up for it!_

_All my love,_

_The ever-loving author._

"It most certainly does! This place is amazing," said Harry.

"It most certainly is romantic," said Draco.

"Right. Back to business, then?"

"Yipperoo!"

"Don't ever say that again."

Back at the Burrow, Ginny had come back to her normal self and was petting Crookshanks the cat while humming 'I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts' to herself. Ron and Hermione were no longer preoccupied by what Harry was doing. In fact, they couldn't have cared less as they snogged, much to the satisfaction of the most satisfied author. But alas, the snogging must come to an end as the plot is in much need of a push. Hermione pushed herself off of Ron's lap and straightened her shirt out.

"Right. Back to business," said Hermione as she stood. (**A.N.:** _Ah, yes. I am reusing clever lines I came up with. What do you mean it's not even a clever line? I'll show you, you'll see!_)

"Right now?" whined Ron

"Right now," nodded Hermione. Ginny threw Crookshanks against the wall and it hissed indignantly.

"Right. Let's go. The insanely good-looking author has given me permission to exit these walls," the redheaded girl said in a voice closely resembling Luna's. Ron and Hermione merely shrugged and followed her out of the Burrow past the broom shed, the forest border and the lake that appears in almost all fanfiction stories at the Burrow but is never mentioned in the books or movies. They kept going until they reached a small clearing with a cozy cabin with a smoking chimney. Carefully, the three friends crept towards the cozy-looking cabin and stole a quick peak in one of the frosted windows. They couldn't believe their eyes. "Do you still want to know?" quietly laughed Ginny.

"This is wrong, so wrong, on so many levels," choked Hermione, attempting to shield her eyes from what she saw. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be handling it all quite well, until he ran to the door and kicked it down because he's just that strong.

"Harry Potter!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, pointing at him accusingly.

"It's not what you think, Ron!" said Harry, with Draco sitting beside him. Hermione appeared at Ron's side, along with Ginny prancing about, throwing daisies everywhere.

"Harry, is that what I think it is?" asked the know-it-all. No, not the author. Hermione!

"Yes, Hermione. It's a laptop," admitted Harry solemly.

"What are you doing with that laptop, Harry? And with Draco Malfoy no less!" she continued. Ginny was now rubbing dandelions all over the cabin walls, not that it matters.

"We're, uh, we're..." stuttered The Boy Who Lived.

"For Salazar's sake, we're just reading stick figure cartoons, alright?" slipped Draco. The room gasped. Except for Ginny, who was now singing 'It's Raining Men' in the corner of the cabin.

"No!" gasped Hermione.

"No!" gasped Ron.

"Yes!" nodded both Harry and Draco.

"How could you, Harry? How... oh, this is just too much!" cried Hermione.

"Yeah, Harry! How could you read stick figure cartoons and not tell me about it?" raged Ron. "I love stick figures! Just look at Hermione!"

"Hey! I resent that!" his girlfriend resented while Ginny giggled.

"You never told me, Ron," said Harry. "Come on, take a seat, we're on this really great site."

"What's it called?" the redhead asked.

"The site's called explosm . net, it's awesome," said Draco.

Hermione fainted as the boys read more their daily share of violent, grotesque and sexual stickmen cartoons on the site explosm . net. Ginny left the cabin on a purple horse that she affectionately named My Little Pony.

* * *

**A.N.: **_Right. So, explosm . net is an actual site, and they have daily webcomics. I love them! They're really funny. So go read them! They're in the section called comics._


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